Vampire Doll
by Uchiha Yukime
Summary: Frozen in time in the body of a seventeen year old vampire-wizard, Harry lives for fifty years looking just as young and beautiful while his remaining friends age and move on. A shadow of his former self, Harry wastes away under the pain of losing his humanity and his chance to meet his destined mate. Thrown back in time, Harry might just get his happily ever after; but it involves
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Little doll, little doll, what is it that you want?

Harry Potter

He felt lied to, betrayed, in the deepest way a human being could ever feel. It was supposed to be over! He should have been dead and rotting in the bloody dirt, buried alongside his parents at the fine, grand age of seventeen like he had always secretly hoped he would be. Harry had gone along with whatever the hell fate had wanted him to do, went along quickly and quietly like a good trained puppy –and what did he get?! –life, he was given a second chance at life.

Harry felt like crying.

It was such a cruel parody of what he had wanted that Harry could seriously laugh long and hard if he thought about it too long.

So he didn't think, didn't feel, didn't do a single bloody thing except waste away silently in the presence of his friends and fans. Smiling and giving false speeches for all those foolish wizards and witches that couldn't see beyond their own inflated egos and face the bitter truth: their hero wasn't even human anymore.

A _vampire. _(And there was also the tiny detail of being the Master of Death, but hey, that's a problem for another day).

A magical creature that was known for its dark beauty, its thirst for blood, and for its immoral lifespan, but really, when it came to Harry, things were never as simple as they seemed. Every vampire, no matter their status of blood, had a mate –and only one mate; and unfortunately for the vampire, if their mate was either dead or rejected them, said vampire would have to face the consequences. That is exactly where Harry finds himself today, only a month after the fall of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

His mate was already dead.

There would be no getting to meet the one person in the world who had been destined for him, no awkward moments between two strangers, no falling in love or getting rejected…nothing, just nothing.

And the worse part?

Harry would receive flashes, small glimpses of what his mate had been like, tiny facts that were like an attempted to soothe him, allowing him to know his mate even if nothing would come of it.

_He saw the blackest colored hair and eyes the same color, smothering with a passion for something Harry would never know. Rough laughter would reach his ears –the sweetest sound Harry had ever heard –and pale hands would sometimes ghost over Harry's skin, a phantom touch of a person long gone. _

And sometimes –if Harry was really lucky –he would catch a glimpse of one of his mate's memories, and though the memories would always be hazy and nothing but a bur to him, he would still be able to hear clearly, hear his mate speak about trivial things that meant the world to Harry.

_The grass was underneath him, the sky a bright blue that signified the beginning of hot summer days and the wind blew lazily through the few trees around the small meadow hidden deep within a forest of ancient oak trees. A whispered conversation reached his straining ears, the words becoming etched deeply in his mind._

" –" _His mate's name, Harry was never able to hear his name._

"_What is it – ?" Every name spoken in the memories would be blocked out; causing Harry to wonder why the fates were so cruel as to give him something to remember his mate by and yet deny him the knowledge of _who _exactly his mate had been. _

"_I was wondering if you like to come to Diagon Alley with me to get our school supplies, I mean, we could do something else after that –eat some ice cream or something like that. So, would you?"_

_The rough laughter Harry loved to hear was the only answer, and Harry knew the answer was yes._

"_Thank you – !" The witch apparently knew that as well. _

It hurt, and every time Harry had a glimpse, he would be over the moon at first, only for it to all come crashing down later when he finally came to his senses and realized that it wouldn't matter in the end.

The pensieve Harry received from one of the many grateful wizards and witches was put to good use after every such event.

And so it went, a month became two, two into three, four, five, six, seven….

Until time had moved so fast that fifty years had gone by.

Harry's friends were all over the age of sixty; each had married and had children, and later became grandparents to the children of their children. Their youth had ended nearly thirty years ago and yet, Harry was still young, hadn't aged a day, and was still the petite Gryffindor he had been during his seventh year of Hogwarts.

Frozen in time –Harry was only a shadow of who he once was, a sad little shadow of such a lively boy; he was only good for display now, dressed up in the finest of robes for the public.

Spending most of his days at Grimmauld Place, The-Boy-Who-Lived was visited everyday by his friends –friends who could do nothing but watch as Harry only seem to live in the past, his emerald eyes not taking in the sight of the wonderful future he had made possible. Their pleads and yells fell on deaf ears, for the doll-like Harry Potter never did anything in response –he was too broken.

….And then came the day when Ron Weasley could take no more, when his anger at the world, at the plain _unfairness _that penetrated every aspect of his best friend's life boiled over into one angry, hurt-filled question: "_**WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU WANT HARRY?! WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR YOU TO BE **__OUR __**HARRY AGAIN?! THE HARRY THAT ACTUALLY HAD A BLOODY PERSONALITY! YOU'RE USELESS NOW! JUST A FREAKING VAMPIRE WHO WON'T DIED!**_"

Harry's pale face became lively; his rose red lips curving upwards into a small smile, emerald eyes lightening up with a childish happiness not seen in years, pale cheeks flushing red with excitement and raven hair escaping from the ribbon that kept it tame for so long, once again surrounding the boy's face in unruly strands.

"_I want to die."_

And then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter one: A Doll No More

_Year: 1967_

It was official now; the fates, Merlin, or whoever the hell was the greater power _up there, _really hated him.

It had been exactly two months since he was quite rudely –in his opinion anyway –plucked from his old life into what Harry likes to fondly call "_the-freaking-bloody-past-that-he-has-no-business-being-in"_, a mouthful for sure, but it described his…unusual situation perfectly to a T.

The last thing Harry remembers clearly is hating fate for making it impossible for him to die like every other person and after that…his memories get hazy; like a blur, he remembers living quite a few years after that (fifty?) and then comes the memory that frankly baffles and frightens him.

"_I want to die." _

That's it, his last memory of his old life is telling his friends (and didn't they look old?) that he wanted to die.

Next thing Harry knows is that he lying at the bottom of a staircase, his head twisted awkwardly so that he was able to make out more where exactly he had landed at. He ended up in a mansion; reminisce of Malfoy Manor if Harry was to be honest, what with its stone floor covered in a soft, lush Slytherin green carpet that was designed with intriguing images of magical creatures –unicorns, dragons, centaurs, and even thestrals. The main hall was brightly lit by the sun's rays streaming through the glass windows, antique bookshelves lined the sides of the hall filled with countless books –both old and new – and the ceiling was bewitched just like at Hogwarts, showing the beautiful summer sky in all its glory.

After finally regaining his senses, Harry had wondered deeper into the mansion, discovering that it was far grander than even the Malfoys' home, being five stories in height with more than thirty rooms (he had lost count after thirty-five). Once he stumbled across the main study, Harry had quickly discovered that _he _was the sole owner of Domi Palace, and that apparently; he was the sole surviving heir of the Ravenclaw line and had in his possession numerous vaults overflowing with gold and priceless objects.

So far that was the only good thing going for Harry, everything else just seem to cause him a great deal of headaches. His mansion was under the Fidelius charm, and ironically enough, it was hidden close by number 4 Privet Drive –within walking distance to be exact.

It seemed that no matter where Harry was (even in the god-forsaken past!), his childhood wouldn't stop haunting him in one way or another.

That particular annoyance was quickly forgotten as the days went by and Harry started hunting for a job; the process was slow going as his status as a magical creature practically guaranteed that most people looked at him as if he were scum. It was quite a change when Harry was used to people going out of their way to please him –magical creature or not – though it wasn't a completely unpleasant change. In the end, he managed to obtain a job as a Curse breaker for Gringotts.

It was while returning from an assignment for the goblins that Harry came face to face with someone he hadn't planned on seeing ever again –and ended up hours later as the unofficial guardian of said person.

Someone up there really did hate him!

Severus Snape

Every day he wondered why he hadn't been born into a loving family; a family that would make sure he was happy and his belly was always filled with food and maybe a few sweets. Where the father wouldn't be a completely useless dunderhead that had too many issues to count –among them being just a little too fond of the bottle and having anger issues that he took out on his wife and only son. Where the mother wasn't too weak to stand against her husband, where she was capable of admitting that yes, she had made a mistake in running off and marrying a _muggle _of all people and then packing up all her things and leaving with her son. And where the only child of the family wasn't always dressed in rags that were much too big for the skinny form of a seven year old and wasn't picked on by the children who were much better off than he was.

Yes, Severus Snape would always wonder these things; but he also knew that nothing would ever change his lot in life. His father would always be a useless drunk that was only good at beating his wife and son; his mother would always lack the backbone to protect herself and her son; and Severus would always be the dirty little boy that was too poor and ugly to have any friends.

He believed that up to the day when things turned for worse…and then for the better.

His father had just come home after spending the last few days at who-knows-where –not that Severus cared, his father could get himself killed and Severus would be the first one celebrating –but sadly, Tobias Snape returned home only to start the cycle of violence by beating his wife…something about the food not being hot and ready for him as soon as he walked through the door.

Severus just hurried to his room, giving it about half an hour until his father would be content with the broken and bruised form of his wife before once again hitting the bottle.

That's what always happened.

Except this time the beating didn't stop, Tobias' appetite for violence wasn't fulfilled by just his wife, no, this time, his son also needed a good reminder of who exactly was the boss in the house.

One moment Severus was lying on his sagging bed, reading one of the few potion books his mother still had while successfully dulling her screams and pleads for mercy and the next he was hitting the wall, the disgusting smell of alcohol-tingled breath filling his nose. Looking with wide eyes up at his father –it had been a while since Tobias had beaten him –Severus managed to make out the uncontrollable anger clouding his father's face before a fist punched his right cheek harshly, causing his head to hit the wall with worrying force.

Dazed, he could only curl his body inwards, trying to seem as small as possible in hopes of sparing himself the worse of his father's temper.

It didn't work.

For how long he was there, hit by the never-ending punches of his father, Severus would never know. What he did know was that his mother had to have been beaten more than normally since she would usually have already come running to protect him from his father's fist.

He wondered if his father had finally managed to kill his mother.

It was a thought that bared thinking.

Suddenly, a scream broke through the eerie silence that had descended upon Spinner's End; and then Severus saw a hunched over figure crawling towards him, a trail of bright red following right after.

"_Tobias! Oh dear Merlin! Please stop! Stop hurting my baby –you're hurting him! Please stop, oh merli –stop!"_

His mother.

At the same moment that his mother had yelled out _'stop!'_; Severus had felt a whole new level of pain –and only seconds later another bright red trail caught his eyes.

It was coming from his stomach, falling in a grand big burst like the little waterfall he liked to watch from his window.

_Blood…it was blood –he was bleeding and so was his mother…_

_But why? His father's fist couldn't be the reason his mother and him were bleeding so much…could it?_

A pained scream –his mother's –echoed loudly in the tiny house and then suddenly the door was thrown opened, the sun's bright rays penetrated the dark interior of Spinner's End and a shadow loomed over the three occupants.

Magic flooded the house, so warm and yet so chilling; which halted his father's hand, causing him to drop something that was splattered with vivid red to the floor.

Wide emerald green eyes filled with worry and shock were the last things Severus saw before the light of the sun disappeared and he thrown into darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Eileen Snape

If she wasn't convinced she was dying before, she most certainly was now.

Because as she lay on the ground, blood flowing from her fatal wounds in a rush, Eileen was graced with the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. A _wizard_. Petite-sized, pale, with long raven black hair and ruby red lips, the young boy could pass off as a girl if one were to spare him only a passing glance –but what really caught her attention was his unnatural eyes. They were so _green_, greener than emeralds while at the same time the brilliant orbs blazed with a protective gleam that was directed at both herself and her son.

The young wizard quickly moved towards her son, looked him over for a few seconds before preforming a healing spell –wandlessly and silently. She watched as he gently gathered Severus in his arms before turning his attention to her, all the while words of concern tumbling from his lips.

"Don't move, you will only aggravate your injuries even more," Here he paused before casting a pain-relieving spell on her, his eyes gaining a darker look to them as he came to the realization that there wasn't anything he could possibly do to save her.

"I-I'm sorry…there isn't much I can do now."

Eileen couldn't help but smile at that; he had done more to help her than her blasted family and husband had ever done for her and her dear Severus. She lifted her hands to cup his youthful cheeks, "It's fine. You saved my child and that's more than I could ask for."

A dull sense of numbness was slowly overtaking her senses, a chill that seem to settle within her bones even as she fought against.

She wasn't ready to died, not yet. Not before making sure her Severus would be safe. It was the least she could do considering she had let Tobias abuse her son when he got into one of _those _moods.

Her pleading black eyes stared into the eerie emerald green of her savior, "I wish to ask something of you, young wizard," The youth stared back, a sense of understanding dawning on his delicate features. "I, I haven't been the ideal mother for my son –I was too much of a coward to admit that I made a mistake when running off and marrying Tobias. But even if marrying him was a mistake, Severus was _never _a mistake. He was the only good thing that came of all of this mess. So I ask you, not as a stranger to another stranger, nor as a patient to their healer, but as a mother to her personal savior, _please _take care of my son. He deserves so much better than what I gave him these past years."

She couldn't stop her tears even if she wanted to.

"By Merlin, _promise_ me you will take care of him. Promise you will love him and take care of him like I never could. _Promise me!_"

"I promise…Eileen."

She didn't question how he knew her name; that really didn't matter. What mattered was that those three simple words conveyed everything she wanted to hear.

_He would do it_.

"Thank you."

The numbness was spreading, causing her limbs to relax, her thoughts to become disorganized, and her heartbeat to slow to an almost nonexistence rate.

She only wanted to say one more thing.

"Tell him…that I love him. He was best thing that ever happened to me…"

And with those softly spoken words, Eileen Snape took her last breath, a smile lingering on her rapidly cold lips.

Her son would be safe and loved.

Harry Potter

Some days, he really did hate his hero-complex.

If it wasn't for it, Harry could have gone on blissfully Snape-free for the rest of his unnatural life, but no, that just wasn't meant to be. But it could have been worst he reasoned…he just didn't know how.

Letting a quiet sigh escape his lips, Harry bustled around his rather large manor –he refused to call it a mansion, it was a _manor_ and that's all it was –feeling more and more uncomfortable with the thought that Snap –_Severus _– would be waking up any minute now.

How exactly was he going to explain to a seven-year version of his most hated professor that his mother had died and that _he _–Harry – was now his unofficial caretaker for the foreseeable future as his _father _was a bit…preoccupied for the time being.

But most importantly, how the bloody hell was Harry going to take care of a _child_?!

He knew nothing about being a good guardian –much less being a loving parent, so _why _did he go ahead and promise a dying woman that, yes, he would take care and love the boy that would one day grow up to be the Potions professor Harry had known –and hated! But on the other hand…maybe taking care of a child –even if was…Severus, would turn out just fine. It would make things less lonely if nothing else. Sighing (and wasn't he doing that a lot lately?), Harry absently wandered into his kitchen, his hands already picking out ingredients to make a decent meal for the little human child that was now under his care.

Just as he was setting down the plates loaded with the warm meal, Harry's ears picked up the slight change in Severus's breathing. He was waking up. Using his inhuman speed, the young vampire quickly fled up the stairs and was opening Severus's door before Harry had a chance to second guess himself.

Dark black eyes stared straight at the former Gryffindor as Harry felt his lips twist into a faint smile, "Nice to see you back with the living Severus."

An emotion Harry couldn't understand flashed through his young, professor-to-be eyes before Severus opened his mouth.

"Are you an angel?"

**And end of this chapter! Sorry for the extremely late update, my only excuse is that high school got in the way of my life…so yeah. Hope you guys like this, I know there isn't much action in this but it was necessary, next chapter will be all from Severus's point of view so look forward to that. Anyways, this upcoming week is my last week of school for this year so expect more frequent updates from me. Until next time!**


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